


A Night on the Dancefloor

by EventHorizon



Series: Lets You Know You're Alive [3]
Category: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dancing, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizon/pseuds/EventHorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Martin go to a charity dance... needless to say, one of them is far more excited about this than the other...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night on the Dancefloor

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of an outtake from The Other Side of the Mirror, but you don't need to have read that growing behemoth to follow this quick little fellow. All you need to know is that Martin and Arthur are already together and Mycroft Holmes would love nothing more than to make Arthur Shappey his official baby brother...

      “Skip!  You look wonderful!  And comfortable, too, which is going to be important since were going da-da-da-dancing….”

Which Arthur was already doing, feet tracing an elaborate pattern across the floor of Carolyn’s entranceway.

      “I will pay you every penny I make for the next twenty years if you say we can go pick up take-away and play one of your board games, instead.  Or cards.  Or conkers.  Or anything in the world except go out dancing.”

      “Nope.  You agreed and we’ve already spent the whole afternoon helping the students get things set up.  Don’t you want to see it all with the lights down low and all the people having a good time?”

      “I can honestly say that I would successfully survive the loss of that experience.”

      “Well I wouldn’t.  Actually, yes I would because I’ve not-danced a lot and I haven’t died yet, but you never know!   Why tempt fate if you don’t have to?  Besides, it’s going to be fuuuuuuuuuuun!”

Arthur’s dance steps now more resembled those of a 4-year old running in a circle trying to burn off a nearly –inexhaustible supply of sugar and joy-fueled energy.

      “Alright, love… we’re going dancing.”

      “Hurrah!  Oh!  And this is for you.”

Arthur scurried off to the kitchen and came back with a small bouquet of very fake flowers.

      “How… lovely, Arthur.  Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome!  This is our first dance and I’m the one who asked you to go, so I’m supposed to give you some flowers, but I thought that if I gave you live flowers and they had to sit in your van all night while we were dancing, they’d get a bit droopy and droopy flowers are sad flowers and I couldn’t give you sad flowers Skip!  So here you go – these will never, ever droop, so you’ll always have happy flowers to look it.  Isn’t that brilliant!”

Martin took the plastic stems and couldn’t stop the smile creeping across his lips.  The petals were dyed in colors that had never met Mother Nature and smelled like they’d been sitting in the back of a shop since World War I, but they were the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen.  Especially since Arthur’s face was bright as the sun and he handed them over.

      “Can we go now?  The sooner we get there, the sooner we can start dancing!”

Which was an amusing statement since Arthur hadn’t stopped dancing since Martin knocked on the door.

      “My chariot awaits.”

      “REALLY!  You’ve got a chariot!  With horses!  Oh Skip, that is the most positively brilliant thing ever!  And it’s just warm enough for a little ride out in the open… with horses!  Do I get a hat?  One of those metal hats that the men in the skirts and capes get to wear?  Actually, a skirt and cape would be simply amazing, because a skirt would be completely brilliant for dancing and the cape… what’s not brilliant about a cape?”

      “I hate to disappoint you, but there’s no chariot.  Just my van.  Like always.”

      “Oh… well, that’s super, too.  The van is nice and big and it doesn’t really have heat, so it’s almost like riding around in the open and it bumps and jumps and jolts sort of like we were riding in a big chariot pulled by horses.  So, it’ll be almost the same!”

Martin wondered if, when the weather actually was warm enough, he could beg a favor from a farmer and at least take Arthur out for a ride in a horse-drawn cart.  Or just break down and ask Mycroft.  One phone call and there’d be a period-accurate chariot and matched train of horses waiting outside of Arthur’s door the next morning.  With proper uniforms and luxury picnic basket at the ready.  It be worth owing Mycroft a favor just to see the expression on Arthur’s face…

__________

Martin wondered how it was that when he had a paying job waiting for him, it was easily a fifty-percent chance his van would break down on the way, but while driving Arthur to the dance, the bloody thing purred like a just-fed panther.  Deep breaths… it was a silly charity dance and he already knew some people who would be there _and_ had hauled over most of the tables and chairs _and_ helped decorate _and_ there were no real surprises that could crop up… but he still wanted to throw up.  Or faint.  Or plead scurvy.

      “Brilliant!  Look at all the cars.  There’s going to be so many people here!  We are going to have the best time two people can possibly have in the entire world tonight, Skip.  And you know how much fun I think we’re going to have since I don’t make statements like that lightly, especially since I don’t actually know what every other person in the world is doing tonight and I’m still willing to say we’re going to have more fun than any of them.”

Martin’s last chance of escape vanished as Arthur grabbed his hand and started running towards the entrance and into the small gymnasium that had been put to use as a dance hall for the night.  And he had to admit, it looked a lot different now than it did when he was dragging in boxes of table covers, along with the tables they’d cover.  In the softer light, the harshly-colored and poorly-maintained walls and ceiling actually created a cozy space for the dancers.  There was no band, but a respectable sound system had been set up and a handful of students seemed to have made that the center of their nest and dedicated themselves to keeping the music flowing.  One wall had a few tables set up with refreshments for purchase and other tables were scattered at the edges of the dance floor for people to rest for another round of gyration.   To Martin, it looked like every dance he’d spied on at school through dirty windows, but to Arthur… it was easy to see that Arthur thought this looked like heaven.

      “What did I tell you, Skip?  Isn’t this perfect?  People are dancing and having a good time and it’s just so lovely with all the decorations.  Are you ready?”

This was the part Martin had been dreading.  He’d held onto the vain hope that he’d be struck dead by a bolt of lightning before he’d have to make this admission, but he should have known his luck would have been just has horrid for this as with everything else in his life.

      “Arthur, I have a confession to make.”

Arthur’s eyes flared wide and he pulled Martin to a quiet corner and hugged him tightly.

      “It’s ok, Skip.  Whatever it is you have to say, it’s ok.  You just go ahead and tell me what you have to, even if it’s something that will make me cry, because I’ll just cry a little and then we’ll do whatever it takes to make things better.  Don’t worry about anything because I love you and there’s nothing in the world that will ever make me not love you.  So… go ahead.   I’m ready.”

Well, now his little soul-bearing didn’t seem so bad.

      “I don’t know how to dance.”

Martin felt Arthur slowly pull away until he was only holding him by their laced fingers.  He withstood being stared at for a full thirty seconds before starting to fidget.

      “I’m sorry, Arthur, but…”

      “Nah… you’re telling me a story.”

      “No, no I’m not.  I can’t dance.”

      “Skip… everyone can dance.”

      “I think you’ll find that’s not true.  For example, there’s me.”

      “But… how can you not know how to dance?  It’s not really something you _know_ , it’s just something you _do_!”

      “Well, I don’t _do_ dancing.”

      “But… ok, look out there at all the people and tell me what you see.”

      “A bunch of chickens having some sort of fit.”

      “Silly Skipper… ok, I do have to admit some have a very…fitty… sort of dance style, but it’s brilliant anyway!  You just go out there and do whatever feels right with the music and you’re dancing!  You can’t do it wrong, if that’s what you’re worried about, which would be very much like you, if I’m to be completely honest.   That’s not what’s bothering you is it, Skip?  That people won’t like the way you dance?”

      “No.”

Yes.  People made fun of him for everything else, why not his clumsy attempt to dance.

      “I know that no.  It’s your ‘yes’ no.  Ok, here’s what we’ll do.  Let’s see if we can just get you moving, then I bet things will take off from there all on their own.  Come with me.”

Martin was completely happy to be in their little dark and empty corner, but Arthur was of the opinion that they needed to be closer to the living presence of Complete Dancing Fun! to get his Skipper properly energized.

      “Now, remember… there’s no right or wrong way to dance and everyone does it differently, so if you don’t dance like anyone else here it means you’re doing a brilliant job!  Let’s start with your bum.”

      “You do realize we’re in public.”

      “Skip!  That’s… well, that’s quite naughty isn’t it.”

      “Yes, it is.”

      “Oh...”

Arthur turned the most gorgeous shade of rosy pink when he blushed.

      “Ah hah!  You’re trying to distract me!  Sorry, but that’s not going to work.  What I mean is that your bum is a good place to start with when you’re dancing.  So, just relax and just move your bum back and forth to the beat.”   

      “And you were accusing _me_ of being naughty?

      “No more trying to distract me with your tangly words.  You’re almost as bad as Mycroft and Mr. Sherlock for trying to make me go run myself in circles like a little doggy when it’s patting down its bed before a lie in.  Now, here… I’ll help.  Just relax.”

Arthur put his hands on Martin’s hips and guided them right and left so Martin swayed in time to the music.

      “See?  If you let you bum follow the beat, the rest of you sort of comes along on its own.  Then, if you want to, you can move your feet around, but you can also just let them stay in one place and maybe just bounce a little with your knees if you want to go up and down, as well as left and right.  Then it’s all just a matter of adding things on if you like them.  You can put your arms over your head or leave them down, wave your head around or just nod a bit.  It’s a bit like ordering from a menu… just pick what you want to try and if you don’t like it, pick something else and try that instead.  But no one makes you pay for anything!  So, are you ready to give it a go?”

To his surprise, Martin was.  Or, at least, more ready to try than he had been five minutes ago.

      “Yeah… let’s see what I can do.”

__________

Two hours later and he hadn’t knocked anyone over, fallen into the refreshments table, set his trousers on fire, caused a riot or ended up at the center of a circle of people pointing and laughing.  By Martin’s standards, the night was going spectacularly well.  And Arthur was _magnificent_ … it was as if he drew life from the people and the music and the movement and bundled it all into an incredibly beautiful human package.  All of Arthur’s usual exuberance was pushed to an even higher level and Martin found that the rest of the crowd faded away when he watched the man he loved uninhibitedly enjoying himself and dancing like it was the one thing on earth he had been born to do.

When a slow song finally took its turn in the rotation, Martin thought they’d use the time to sit and rest, but Arthur wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him close so Martin’s head rested against his chest.  Martin let his own arms curl around Arthur’s waist and simply followed the steward's lead as they slowly moved together, Arthur happily humming along with the music.

      “You know, Arthur… I think this is my favorite type of dancing.”

Arthur’s arms squeezed him tighter and a gentle kiss was placed on the crown of Martin’s head.

      “I might have to agree.  It’s even great when we do it in your flat.  And we usually forget to turn on the radio!”

      “Who needs a radio when I can listen to you sing, instead?”

      “Oh, Skip… I’ll sing for you and dance with you and do anything you want with you for ever and ever.”

      “And I love you for it, Arthur.  Also, for ever and ever.”

Arthur leaned in and pressed his lips to Martin’s, kissing his man softly, then returning Martin’s head to his chest.

      “I love you too, Skip.  Do you think… I told Mum I might do a sleep-over with you tonight at your flat.  I know we’re flying tomorrow and we have to be up early, but it would be very nice to get to snuggle after we’re through dancing.”

And, one day, it wouldn’t be a sleep-over.  They would end the night in their bed, in their little house, in each other’s arms… and life would be _magical_ …

      “I’d like that, love.  Did you bring your pajamas?”

      “Absolutely!  My polar bear ones.  Your flat can be a little cold and polar bears are much warmer than otters, though the otters have bigger smiles, which is a very nice thing to wake up to, especially when I’ve had a bad dream.”

      “Maybe we can find polar bear pajamas that have big smiley bears or otter jammies where they’re all wearing little coats.”

      “Oh my heavens… Skip, do you think we could?  That would be… oh, I can’t even think…”

      “Brilliant?”

      “With whipped cream on top.”

      “Then it’s settled.  One sleep-over when we’re through dancing.”

      “You know, Skip… we _have_ been dancing for a long time and I wouldn’t mind starting our snuggling a little early.”

      “Are you sure, Arthur?  We don’t know how long it will be until there’s another charity dance we can come to.”

      “Well, we can dance here or at your flat, but we can only snuggle at your flat, so if we’re at your flat we can do anything we want to do.  Like snuggle.”

      “Race you to the van.”


End file.
